


In the Soil of Your Desire

by Cunninglinguist



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Anger, Angst, Barebacking, Biting, Blood, Bodily Fluids, But only a little, Consent Issues, Crying, Dark-ish Diego, Derogatory Language, Diego Hargreeves is Bad at Feelings, Drug Addict Klaus Hargreeves, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Dubious Consent, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Extremely Dubious Consent, Face Slapping, Feelings, Feminization, Fight Sex, Finger Sucking, Fist Fights, Graphic Description, Hand & Finger Kink, Klaus Wears a Skirt, M/M, Pain, Past Eudora Patch/Diego Hargreeves, Past Relationship(s), Possessive Behavior, Pre-Canon, Prison, Prostitution, Pseudo-Incest, Rough Sex, Spit As Lube, Spit Kink, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2020-01-22 22:57:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18537184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cunninglinguist/pseuds/Cunninglinguist
Summary: “And yet here we are, in the same fucking place.” Klaus wrenches his arm free. “Because you’resomuch better than me, aren’t you? A failed cop wannabe skulking about the city, breaking bones and cracking skulls to satisfy your own sadistic rage in the name of justice? Meanwhile, you’re probably way worse than the overwhelming majority of the people you put down, wouldn’t you say?”Alternatively, Patch finally makes good on her threat to lock Diego up for the night for interfering in an investigation. Luckily, his cellmate provides an outlet for his frustration.





	In the Soil of Your Desire

**Author's Note:**

> Kliego discord babes, this one's for you. Happy 4/20, Passover, and Easter, have some dubcon jail sex! This is set pre-canon, about 6 months after Patch kicks Diego to the curb. 
> 
> CAVEAT LECTOR: before reading, please scroll back up and read ALL THE TAGS to make sure this is your jam. Read them twice to be sure. Also, know that this is unbeta'd. 
> 
> For a good time, listen to [Pit of Fire](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cVu7lLgoNsA) by 3TEETH while you read this (fun fact: the fic title was ganked from these lyrics).

Diego rounds the corner of the alleyway and comes face to face with the barrel of Detective Eudora Patch’s gun. He can’t help but smirk; it had been stupid as hell for him to assume he was home free. 

Then again, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t kind of hoping for this. Not the whole gun thing, of course, but...it was always nice to see Patch whenever the opportunity presented itself, no matter the circumstances.

“Hello Eudora.”

“God dammit, Diego. I told you, you can’t do this anymore.” She looks at his hands and her eyes flash. “No gloves, are you kidding me? What did you touch?”

“Nothing, nothing! I was just looking.” He gives her his best puppy eyes, the ones that used to always get him off the hook. “You know I’m just trying to help.”

Patch drops her gun and sighs, frustrated. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?”

“When it comes to justice in this city? No, no I can’t.”

“Well, thanks to you, I have to make sure that the entire crime scene isn’t contaminated so we have a prayer that any evidence we might gather is still fucking admissible, so, yeah. Great. Thanks for the help.” Patch turns on her heel and starts back towards the crime scene, and Diego can’t resist following her.

“Come on, Eudora, you know you wouldn’t be so mad if—“

“Do _not_ call me that, and think very, very carefully about your next words,” snaps Patch, halting them in their tracks to stick a finger in Diego’s face. “This has absolutely nothing to do with—“

“Us?” Diego knows his needling will be his undoing, but he can’t help it—it’s worth it to see the flash of anger that passes across her face, the closest thing resembling passion he’s managed to elicit from her in the six months, two weeks, and three days since they ended things. 

“There is no ‘us,’” she hisses. “And maybe a night in the drunk tank would help you remember that.”

Diego rolls his eyes; it’s hardly the first time she’s threatened him with this. 

“Oh, you think I won’t do it?” She looks over his shoulder and bellows, “Beeman!”

Patch’s long-suffering partner jogs over, a knowing, tired look in his eyes. “Yeah?”

“Take him to the precinct, lock him up.”

Beeman’s eyebrows shoot up. “For real?”

Diego chuckles, and Patch scowls. “No, I said that for my health. Yeah, for real.”

“Wow. Okay, I got you.” Beeman lays a hand on Diego’s shoulder and starts guiding him to the squad car. 

“Are you...wait, Eudora, are you serious?” Diego twists out of Beeman’s grasp, and Patch pulls out her taser. 

*******

“C’mon, man, can’t you just…” Diego rattles his cuffs. “You know she’s just mad.”

Beeman laughs and shakes his head. “Are you kidding me?”

“I had to try,” grumbles Diego, suddenly grateful that he’d taken that piss in the alleyway earlier. He wants to play it off like he hasn’t been banking on using their history and friendship to get out of the situation, but now that it is abundantly clear that it won’t work, he’s fucking furious. Plus, he can still feel the currents of his ex’s taser lighting up his bloodstream, which isn’t helping. That had been an unpleasant first. 

“You really gotta cool it with this vigilante shit,” says Beeman, leading him through the nearly deserted precinct. “She’s gonna start following through on her threats more regularly.”

Diego says nothing, knowing full well that his stutter, along with many irrevocable sentiments, will be revealed if he attempts to speak. Diego opens his mouth to protest when Beeman starts divesting him of his knives. “You can get these back tomorrow, but I obviously can’t let you take them in there, man.”

Diego’s _seething_. Even though Beeman has the decency to spare him the fingerprinting, this is by far the most humiliating thing that he’s had to endure at Patch’s hands. By the time Beeman leads him into the back room, uncuffs him, and shoves him in the cell, Diego’s seeing red.

“Fuck you, Chuck!” Diego slams his hands against the bars so hard they rattle. Nonplussed, Beeman locks the gate. Diego hocks the biggest loogie he can muster at Beeman’s retreating form, but he’s already out the door.

“Uh… _Diego?”_

Diego whirls around. There, curled up in a ball on the floor, is someone he hasn’t seen in a long time: his brother, Klaus. True to form, he’s a fucking mess: he’s dressed in a knee-length black pleated skirt and a fishnet crop top (no shoes, of course). There’s a sickly sheen of sweat and body glitter covering his sallow skin, his matted hair is askew, and dark makeup is smudged around his eyes. 

“Why am I not surprised.” Diego crosses his arms and stares at him disdainfully. “What was it this time? Possession?”

Klaus laughs brokenly, eyes rolling around the room, unfocused and bleary. “Solicitation, baby. Turns out my last john was not...forthcoming about his profession.”

Rage flares in Diego’s gut. “Your last _john?_ You’re whoring yourself out now?”

Klaus waves a nonchalant hand, and Diego glimpses the plastic hospital bracelet on his left wrist. Before he fully registers what he’s doing, he’s across the cell, grabbing Klaus by the wrist, and yanking him to his feet. 

“What the _fuck_ is this, hmm?” Diego shakes Klaus’ wrist in his face, curling his upper lip. A sliver of fear pierces the strung out haze in Klaus’ green eyes. _Good._

He turns Klaus’ wrist. “This says yesterday’s date. You just fucking O.D.’d yesterday, and now you’re in prison for being a junkie whore? Wow. This is a new low, even for you.”

Klaus tries to pull himself free, but Diego tightens his grip. Narrowing his eyes, Klaus spits, “Let me go, you fucking asshole! You don’t know anything about my life.”

Diego grits his teeth and digs his nails into Klaus’ flesh until he hears a whimper of pain. “I know _everything_ about your life. You’re a worthless, pathetic, junkie whore who can’t stay out of the hospital or jail long enough to make even the tiniest little something out of yourself.”

“And yet here we are, in the same fucking place.” Klaus wrenches his arm free. “Because you’re _so_ much better than me, aren’t you? A failed cop wannabe skulking about the city, breaking bones and cracking skulls to satisfy your own sadistic rage in the name of justice? Meanwhile, you’re probably way worse than the overwhelming majority of the people you put down, wouldn’t you say?” 

“At least I’m not literally sucking dick for drugs.” Diego lunges at him, but Klaus sidesteps with a surprised, high-pitched giggle. 

“Careful up on that high horse Diego, you’re starting to remind me a lot of Dad.”

“Fuck you!” Diego grabs his arm, but Klaus kicks him, hard, in the shin. He sucks in a sharp breath and releases him. 

“Yeah, fuck me is right!” Klaus reaches into his skirt and pulls out a baggie of pills. He shakes them meaningfully. “These little babies have helped me more than you or dad or the others or anyone else ever has.”

Klaus opens the baggie and Diego rips it out of his hands, throwing it so hard that it flies through the bars and skitters into the shadows. 

Klaus’ mouth falls open as he stares in disbelief after the bag’s trajectory. “You fucking _prick!”_

“What’d you have to do for that bag, huh?” Diego sneers, heart pounding as Klaus lets out an angry cry and charges him. _Finally_. Fighting is what Diego knows, and after tonight, it’s the only thing he craves. 

Diego dodges a swinging fist, adrenaline coursing through his veins as he watches Klaus’ entire body follow his fist in a clumsy spiral. He’s obviously still strung out as all hell, tipping the scales drastically in Diego’s favor. It’s not ideal, but he’ll take what he can get. He rushes Klaus, slamming him into the bars with a growl. Klaus’ face contorts in pain, but he tilts his head back and head-butts Diego hard enough to conjure white spots in the forefront of his vision. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” groans Diego, hand flying to his nose as he tastes coppery blood in his mouth. His ire blooms into a beast of its own making, and all he wants to do is hurt, hurt, _hurt._ He grits his teeth, ready to pounce, but a nauseating burst of pain throbs in his forehead, and he doubles over, hands on his knees, breathing deeply. 

Klaus stumbles over and pats Diego on the back with a dark chuckle. “Oh, Diego. Dear, dumb, rage-blind Diego. _Number Two._ Always so incapable of accessing your emotions like a big boy, you can’t help but take things too far. No wonder Dad never made you Number One.” He pauses, then takes the kill shot. “And no wonder that lady cop dumped your sorry ass, you must have been an absolute fucking nightmare of a partner.”

In that moment, Diego is consumed by wrath: it suffuses his body, singing in his blood as he stands tall, raises his arm, and backhands Klaus across the face. The force of the hit is so great that Klaus spins around and clutches the bars of the cell to avoid falling on his ass. He throws Diego a furious look over his shoulder as his tongue darts out to lick at the blood gushing from his split lip. 

Diego crowds him from behind and cages his body with his own. “Know what your problem is? No one ever taught you how to shut that fucking mouth of yours.”

Klaus lets out an angry grunt and glares at Diego, but doesn’t pull away. Diego lets out a labored exhale, acutely aware of the shift in energy between them, of the flood of desire heating his blood as he pins Klaus to the bars. He grips a fistful of wilted curls and pulls Klaus’ head back until his lips graze his ear. “Bet you kinda wish someone would, though, huh?”

Klaus’ eyes darken; he senses it, too. With a defiant look, he grinds his ass back against Diego’s crotch. Diego’s upper lip curls at the contact; he’s so hard it hurts. Klaus’ breathing hitches and he squirms a bit, like _now_ he’s trying to put distance between them, but Diego grabs his hip with his free hand and anchors him in place. He can hear himself breathing, slow and shuddering deep as he rolls his hips, pressing his erection against Klaus.

“Diego--” Klaus tries, eyelids fluttering. 

“Shut the fuck up.” Klaus’ lips snap shut, and Diego bites his lip at the obedience. He moves his hand under Klaus’ skirt to squeeze his ass before cupping his cock. Klaus is hard, too, almost as hard as Diego, so Diego gives him a long, slow, pull, relishing the way he shudders at the contact.

“You’re so fucking twisted,” hisses Diego into his ear. He removes his hand and Klaus whimpers at the loss. “You like taking it in the ass, don’t you?”

Klaus opens his mouth to reply, but Diego kicks Klaus’ legs apart and swipes two fingers between his cheeks. He’s soft there, already open and wet.

“You’ve already been fucked today?” Something feral unfurls within Diego’s chest and he slides a finger into him with no warning, cock pulsing at how hot and slick he feels. Klaus gasps in surprise. “Answer me, slut.”

“Y-yeah,” breathes Klaus, clenching around Diego’s finger. 

Diego pulls out and pushes two back in, unceremoniously, drinking in Klaus’s whimper of discomfort. “How many times? How many guys?”

Klaus closes his eyes and a tear rolls down his cheek. “Just once. Just one.”

 _“Bullshit.”_ Diego crooks his fingers, milking a strangled cry from Klaus’ bloody lips.

“I swear,” he pants, little thighs trembling against Diego as he mercilessly rubs his insides. “J-just one.”

“Did you take it raw?” Diego shoves fingers deep and pauses. His heart thunders as his rage curdles inside him.

“No, no, god, no.”

“He didn’t come in your slutty asshole?” Diego twists his fingers for emphasis.

“No!”

 _Good._ Diego buries his nose in Klaus’ neck and inhales indulgently. He smells divine, like sweat and musk and a little cologne, and something else that might be fear. It drives Diego fucking crazy. He opens his mouth and sinks his teeth into milky white flesh.

 _“Diego!”_ Klaus shudders violently, and Diego bites harder, moaning against his soft throat at the feeling of his hole tightening around his fingers. 

“You like that shit, don’t you, you sick little fuck?” Diego slides his fingers free and eyes the bite mark, already an angry, purpling red. Now Klaus will remember this every time he looks in the mirror. 

Klaus nods, helpless. 

“You like pain?”

“God, Diego.” Klaus moans his name almost reverently, and Diego releases his hair roughly. He runs greedy hands over Klaus’ body as an Armageddon rages within him between his lust, over the fact that Klaus is finally his for the taking, and his fury, over the fact that another man’s hands have been on Klaus’ body today, on _Diego’s_ body, most likely joining the hands of countless other faceless men. 

Men who didn’t appreciate him, who couldn’t take care of him. 

Diego’s heart aches suddenly, a deep-seated sorrow and longing leaking into rage and adrenaline, and he can’t believe that it’s come to this. That this is how he takes Klaus for the first time, in a rage-fueled, drugged out haze in a jail cell. 

He sniffs, and does what he does best: he sweeps all thoughts of lost time and things left unsaid aside, locking them away so he can focus on his panting, shaking conquest.

“You ever been fucked for free? By someone who wasn’t gonna give you drugs?” Diego’s vision nearly whites out as he grinds against Klaus’ ass. 

“Maybe once or twice,” breathes Klaus as Diego unzips his pants. He turns to fix Diego with wet, wide eyes. “Are you gonna fuck me, Diego?”

“I’m gonna fucking tear you apart,” whispers Diego into his ear. He grips a fistful of sweet, soft curls and yanks his head back. “What, you gonna try to tell me you don’t want that?”

The tremble in Klaus’ bloody bottom lip is a sight that Diego won’t soon forget. He cups his palm under Klaus’ mouth. “Spit, slut.”

Big, sad, pretty eyes shining with unshed tears lock onto Diego’s gaze as Klaus spits a globule of blood-tinged saliva into Diego’s palm. 

Diego spits too, and slicks his prick up, hissing at the touch--he’s bursting with it, so turned on he thinks he might pass out. He hauls Klaus back by the hips, knees his thighs apart, and presses steadily into his hot, tight hole. 

Klaus cries out and goes rigid, but Diego doesn’t stop, doesn’t wait for him to acclimate. He’s already addicted to his body and he’s not even halfway in yet. 

“You’d better shut up,” murmurs Diego, sliding three fingers into Klaus’ mouth. “Don’t want the whole fucking precinct to hear you.”

Klaus’ eyes roll back in his head and he sucks on Diego’s fingers, tears rolling down his face as Diego finally slides home. He holds Klaus tight, pressing his face into sweat-damp curls, shaking in pleasure. Klaus whimpers around his fingers as his muscles squeeze, trying to adjust to the intrusion. 

“Good boy,” says Diego lowly when Klaus’ whimpers die down. He pulls halfway out, then shoves his fingers deeper into Klaus’ throat as he thrusts back in. Klaus chokes on him, and Diego feels hot tears on his skin. It’s heady, it’s unbearably hot, and Diego doesn’t think he’s ever had a more intense sexual experience in his life. 

Drool drips down Diego’s arm and Klaus’ chin as Diego fucks him, hard and inexorable. He removes his fingers from Klaus’ mouth and grips his brother’s pretty jaw, forcing his their eyes to meet. “How do I feel, so deep inside you?”

The green of Klaus’ irises pop against the bloodshot whites of his eyes. “So big, so deep.”

“Does it hurt?”

”Yes.”

“Just how you like it, huh?”

Klaus bottom lip quivers. _”Yeah,_ oh yeah.” 

Arousal tears through Diego and he can feel his orgasm building as he picks up the pace, fucking into Klaus so hard that the cell bars shake. Klaus’ teeth are buried in his bottom lip, causing a fresh stream of blood to dribble through the saliva on his chin. It’s a sight to behold. Diego pulls all the way out and slams Klaus against the bars, lifting one of those gorgeous legs and resting a bare foot on a bar for support. He wants to be as close to Klaus as possible, to feel every groan rumble through him, every tremor and flutter of his body, all as he watches his face as he takes him apart.

“Diego, what--”

“Shut up, bitch,” snarls Diego, pressing a high cheekbone against the cold metal so he can stare into those hazy, teary eyes. He spits down Klaus’ crack and rubs his fingers through the saliva, coating his hole. Klaus jerks, and Diego wants to drop to his knees to get a better look at his asshole--he can only imagine how red and used it must be by now. He nearly comes at the thought alone. He grabs the bars next to Klaus’, leaning his full body weight against him as he forces himself back inside. 

“Diego!” Klaus’ fingers clench and release and his body seizes up again.

Diego licks a wet, wide stripe up his jawline and bites down, hard, on his earlobe. “Shhh,” he all but coos, sticking his tongue into Klaus’ ear before whispering, “you were made for taking my cock, baby, so just shut up and take it, huh?”

Klaus shudders violently and Diego groans; it won’t be long now. 

“You use your body to get what you want.” The bars rattle and Klaus lets out a broken sob as Diego slams into him. “But this cunt, this belongs to me now, baby.”

Klaus lets out something between a sob and a shriek, and Diego pushes his fingers back between those swollen, bleeding lips. “Bet you’re so hard your little prick is dripping, just from me fucking you. Christ, you can come just from having something in your ass, can’t you?”

Klaus nods and moans around his fingers as Diego slides home and circles his hips, rubbing against a spot that makes Klaus’s eyes cross and a steady stream of saliva and tears drip from his mouth and eyes in gorgeous harmony. He clenches around Diego and white-hot pleasure shoots up his spine. 

“You’re gonna make me come,” whispers Diego, kissing and sucking on Klaus’ jaw and neck as he picks up speed. His fingers slip from Klaus’ lips and he runs his hand over Klaus’ chest and stomach, committing tremulous muscles to memory, scraping his nails across sweaty, heaving flesh. 

Klaus releases one of the bars and grabs Diego’s hand, holding it to his chest as his head lolls back against Diego’s shoulder. “Jesus,” he gasps, like he’s drowning. fingers tightening as his hole grips Diego’s cock hungrily. “Oh Jesus, right there, _right there.”_

“Yeah, like that?” 

“Y-yeah..!” Klaus’ pretty lips fall open as he bucks his hips back urgently. Diego growls, nibbling and sucking harshly on the bite mark he made earlier, hips pumping as he spirals towards his own release. 

Klaus lets out a breathy mewl and seizes up, fingers gripping Diego’s tight enough to break, knuckles whitening around the cell bar.“Oh, god, yeah, I’m--I’m coming, I’m coming, oh, god, Diego, Diego, _Diego!”_

Diego watches in awe as Klaus shudders through his orgasm, eyes squeezed shut, tears and eyeliner running down his face as he gasps and sobs in pain and pleasure. His mind shuts down as he fucks him through it, drinking up overstimulated whimpers and moans like ambrosia, a powerful heat aching between his legs and radiating through his body. 

“Klaus--” is all Diego manages to whisper before he thrusts deep inside him and releases violently, pouring all of his anger and lust and sorrow and pleasure into his trembling partner, groaning against Klaus’ bruised neck.

It takes a few moments for Diego to do something that isn’t pant into Klaus’ hair, still holding him against the bars. Klaus is in a similar state, fingers still tight around the bar and Diego’s hand as they come down, the wild beating of his heart vibrating against Diego’s knuckles. Diego pulls out slowly, missing Klaus’ body the moment he’s gone. Klaus shifts and grits his teeth in discomfort, and Diego lifts his skirt to watch his come dribble copiously onto Klaus’ thighs. 

“Jesus,” he murmurs, groping Klaus’ ass possessively. He wishes he had something he could use to help Klaus clean up, but he doesn’t, so he watches as Klaus gathers the material of his skirt and wipes at himself.

Guilt settles in Diego’s gut like an uneasy anchor. Unsure of where to go from here, he clears his throat. “So, I hope I--”

Klaus turns and presses a finger to his lips, shaking his head rapidly. “Now it’s your turn to shut the fuck up, yeah?”

Diego nods, and Klaus mimics him. A melancholy smile spreads across his lips and he leans forward, hesitating a moment before replacing his fingers with his lips. Diego kisses him back, and it’s soft, with none of the heat and anger of their sex. 

He tastes like blood and tears.

Klaus pulls away first. He leans against the bars, letting out an incredulous half-chuckle and rubbing his eyes with the backs of his hands as he sinks to the floor.

Cautiously, Diego sits beside him, close enough for their knees to touch. The silence between them is too charged to be companionable, but not awkward enough to be broken. Klaus doesn’t move away. 

For the first time in years, possibly ever, Diego finds himself sitting next to Klaus in utter silence.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading that as much as I enjoyed writing it! If you appreciated this content, please drop a comment and some kudos to feed your friendly neighborhood smut peddler. 
> 
> You can also come find me on [Tumblr dot com](http://hannibalssweaters.tumblr.com/), if you're into that kind of thing.


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